


Floating on Air, Drowning in Water

by ldyvanillacourt



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Crying, Falling In Love, Hugging, Kissing, M/M, Stargazing, its just yooseven being sad im sorry, kind of spoilers for 707’s route but not rly, oh so much angst, why do i torture these boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 17:31:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17902439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ldyvanillacourt/pseuds/ldyvanillacourt
Summary: To this day he remembers what it felt like.





	Floating on Air, Drowning in Water

To this day he remembers what it felt like, the feeling of floating on air or drowning in water, of holding his hand and feeling skin against skin, never letting go. He’d take his hand a million times and lead him to outer space if he could, spend the rest of his life with him and not have to worry about anything.

They used to sit under the stars or watch the sunset, and sometimes when they’d stay up late they’d sit on the porch and watch it rise. They’d talk about life, what they could and couldn’t do. They’d talk about what happens after you die. 707 believed in Heaven and Hell, of God and a final judgment before afterlife. Yoosung didn’t have a religion and all he wanted to do when he died was stay with Seven.

Yoosung used to say they could do anything together, that they could run away and be happy forever and spend every moment in each other’s embrace. Seven never gave him a proper answer. 

He still remembers how much Yoosung loved to watch the stars. Seven would drive him out to his favorite place to stargaze and together they’d lay under the moonlight. Yoosung would drape an arm over his chest and Seven would hold him tight, and he remembers the feeling of bliss in that moment.

They once saw a shooting star.

Seven loved stargazing. He loved stargazing because he’d just stare and stare at Yoosung’s smile at the night sky and the way his hair moved slightly with the breeze. He always told him he was his favorite star. He joked a lot. He did, but never about that.

He remembers how much he loved him. He never told anyone he was in love with them until he met Yoosung. Maybe it was every time they’d stargaze or look at the sunset, or every time he was thrown onto his couch and Yoosung would climb into his lap, two arms flung around his neck, kissing so desperately and with a passion he’d never felt before; but Seven considered falling in love with Yoosung to be a step-by-step process, and it was exactly like he remembers it: floating on air, drowning in water.

Their kisses were deep and needy and it really felt as if he was drowning and unable to breath, not thinking right. He was never thinking right around Yoosung. He’d always be reminded of shooting stars. And when Yoosung moved from his lips to his neck, he closed his eyes and saw a shooting star. He opened them and saw another.

They’d lay together afterwards.

On these nights Seven would end up holding him and they’d probably watch a movie, or fall asleep before waking up at 2 AM and doing something else. They’d never sleep properly. Not when Seven could still feel the tingle of Yoosung’s kiss on his lips.

On one particular night Seven said something.

“Yoosung.”

He felt a slight shift in his embrace.

“I’m in love with you.”

This time he didn’t feel, only heard.

“I love you.” It was said in a tired, soft voice, and it sounded as if Yoosung was about to yawn, but he continued. “Let’s be together forever.” 

Seven never responded to that.

He was pretty damn lucky to have been that happy at some point, he guesses.

He remembers locking himself in his bedroom and wanting to stay far, far away from anyone and anything. He remembers checking his phone and seeing missing calls from Yoosung, two-day old text messages and the hesitation to answer the door when the bell rang.

He remembers telling Yoosung to stay away from him.

That was how he’d be better off. This was happiness that Seven didn’t think he deserved; he was dangerous and secretive and bad, oh, so bad; and Yoosung was a shooting star, bright and innocent, and he was so in love with him.

He remembers the way Yoosung’s hands gripped his shirt and his head struck his chest, how he was shaken with sobs and tears kept spilling like a waterfall. His eyes were misty and pooled with tears, two purple lakes. Seven felt his own eyes start to tear up and he failed his attempt to hold the tears back. Together they cried and cried for what felt like years before golden eyes met purple and Yoosung spoke.

“Please.” He choked on a sob that hadn’t come out. “Don’t leave me.”

Yoosung had lost so much.

Seven knew Yoosung had lost way, way too much.

He thought about this whenever they’d stargaze, or kiss, or lay in bed content with each other’s presence. He thought about this when he told him he loved him. He thought about this when he considered a relationship with him, about how he’d never have to stop floating on air or drowning in water if he could call Yoosung his boyfriend. He knew it was dangerous. The thought never left his mind.

He told Yoosung this. He said he didn’t care.

He couldn’t do it anymore.

“Put me in danger,” Yoosung said, hands gripping tighter and tighter. “Please. Please, put me in danger, I don’t care. Just please don’t leave me. I want to be with you.”

He really couldn’t.

“It’s for the best,” Seven said. 

“No, it’s not.”

“If you fall more in love with me and something bad happens—”

“I’m already in love with you!” His hands left his shirt and instead two arms flung around his neck and stayed there, head buried into his chest. He could feel Yoosung’s hands gripping his back and he wrapped his own two arms around his torso. He held him close as Yoosung cried.

“I’m in love with you too.”

“I know.”

“We’re in too deep.”

An exhale that shook with his sobs. “I know.”

He remembers.

He remembers far too well.

And to this day he’s still in love with Yoosung Kim, and he remembers. The feeling of floating on air, drowning in water, one he knows he’ll never feel again. The blissful feeling of holding him close as they watched the stars or drifted off to sleep. Of soft lips on his and ecstasy and an explosion of overwhelming happiness.

He doesn’t stargaze anymore.

Instead he wakes up alone in the morning, drinks some soda, jokes around in the messenger, does his work, goes to sleep. It’s boring. It’s goddamn boring and horrible and he hates it. He hates how it has to be this way.

He thinks about the offer a lot, about running away with Yoosung, probably to go somewhere to elope and have a happy ending. That’d be something crazy and he doesn't think they could do that. He wishes there was another way.

When he wakes up alone every morning, the bed is cold.

The bed is cold and it’s lonely.

It’s so, so lonely.

**Author's Note:**

> this is the product of listening to just like heaven by the cure and thinking about yooseven. i advise u ... don’t do that unless u wanna cry and end up writing something sad. thanks for reading!
> 
> twitter: ldyvanillacourt  
> tumblr: bisexualray  
> 


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